Fire Emblem Awakening: Future of Despair
by NeoFantasy
Summary: Prior to the events in Awakening. Ylisse's future looks grim as Lucina attempts to hold her people together and fight The Earth Dragon Grima. Meanwhile other children begin to have their stories unfold in this dark and unforgiving world. Discover the tale of the children lost to time as they fight for those they love, and mourn for those they failed to protect.
1. Ch1: An Unwelcome Change

**Author's Note: After a two year absence, I decided to revisit this story and fix it up. Who knows, I may even post some new chapters now that summer's coming up. Even so, these first two chapters are still a bit rough. Once I have the time, I plan on re-writing them both so they'll be on par with Chapter three and my current level of writing.**

 **One**

 **An Unwelcome Change**

Risen were not the smartest of foes. They'd attack a village, destroy everything and then leave... On this day however, that was not quite the case. These risen seemed to be more focused, more attentive. Their attack patterns seemed more strategic, as is there were actually some sort of monster leading this group of terrors... The thought of intelligent risen was enough to make her skin crawl. She had enough trouble trying to slay these beasts when they were just barbaric brutes, the last thing she needed was for them to start formulating complex plans and outmaneuvering her. Lucina took a moment to think and allowed her mind to wonder. _Such a peaceful village._ She thought. _I wonder... was it our being here that attracted the Risen?_

"Lucy, look out!" Cried a voice off in the distance.

Lucina quickly spun her body one-hundred-and-eighty degrees drawing Falchion at the same time. The Holy blade clashed with the blunt end of a rusted axe as a hideously malformed Risen growled mere inches from her face.

"A simple day without hearing of you beasts is too much to ask for, isn't it! She grunts as she kicks the Risen in it's shin to set it off balance and assumes her normal combat position. It was one her father had taught her. "Used by the Hero King himself!" He'd always say. She ran toward the Risen, thrusting her blade forth in an attempt to pierce it's heart. Much to her delight, it did. The Risen cried out a terrible scream that shook Lucina's very core. A wail of a soul trapped and tortured finally being released. And then it finally dissolved into purple mist.

"That was awesome Luci" Her sister cheered, getting off of her pegasus "The risen was all like _Blarg_ and you were all like _Hiiiiyyyaaa!_ You looked just like a hero!"

"Cynthia!" Lucina replied sharply, trying her best to look angry. "This is no time to be playing games. We are in the midst of a damned battle!" In truth, Lucina found the thought of being a hero slightly amusing, but this was no time for games and she needed her sister to understand that.

Cynthia looked at her with wide-eyes. Lucina found her younger sister to be much too soft at times. "Cynthia" she said in a much softer voice. "I am honestly quite honoured that you think I look like a hero but, could you save the compliments until after the battle is won?" She gave her sister a soft smile.

With a small sniff and a wipe of the eyes Cynthia returned the smile to her sister. "Yeah, I suppose I should... sorry."

"It's quite alright Cynthia as long a-" In the midst of their conversation, a new group of risen began to surround them.

…...

 _Why won't these worms just die already,_ he thought to himself. Pulling his cowl further over his head, Marc stood idly by cracking his knuckles enjoying the sounds of the distant combat. This tremendously more difficult than he had assumed it would be. Of course, he never imagined killing these... insects would be easy, much to the contrary, he was well aware of their ability to cling to life, however, after hearing of his sister's recent success, he was sure he would at least preform as good as she had. _Of course this was to happen! She's the tactician, I'm the blade!_

"Marc..." The hideous voice of his caretaker, Baba, brought him out of his thoughts.

"What? If you are to tell me about the state of the battle, save your breath. I am not so daft that I cannot tell when I have lost." He did not turn to face Baba. He would not allow him the pleasure of seeing his disgruntled face.

Baba sneered. "Already admitting to defeat? Yet you were so confident earlier..."

"Begone, make yourself of use and by me some time. Step on some worms if it pleases you I care not!"

"As you wish, my lord." Baba chuckled softly and warped away.

"Damnit!" he said beginning to pace back and forth." _Why can I not do this!? I'm just as smart as her, if not smarter... my plan was flawless_. He begins thinking in stark contrast to his earlier thought of simply being the sword. _See this is the problem. I can't adapted to the situation, how am I supposed to lead father's armies if I can't adapt to sudden changes. Dammit if she can do it why can't I!_ "I need more training that's all." He stopped pacing and turned to look down at the burning village below. "There's no point, I've lost, father is going to be furious." he tried to pushed that thought aside, not wanting to let his doubt get the better of him. Right now he needed to focus, was there anyway he could turn the tide of the battle, none that he could think of so his only other option was to retreat. He knew his father would make him pay for this.

…...

Lucina quickly finished of the last of the Risen and turned to face her sister. "Cynthia" she said in between breathes "Go find Owain and make sure he's alright."

Cynthia, not wanting to anger her sister any further, complied and flew off in search of her cousin.

The sound of footsteps signaled someone's approach and Lucina quickly turned to face the sound.

"A pleasant surprise this is, The princess herself."

"Grimleal!" She spat "I knew someone must be commanding these Risen."

Baba laughed. "Oh! You flatter me princess, but it was not I who commanded them. I do not posses the required... shall we say, blessing to control Risen. But enough with the flapping of our mouths yes? Shall we let out weapons do the talking?" With a movement of his hand a crimson axe spawned inside the mans hand and it was sound not a second later. Quickly jumping to the side, Lucina was able to narrowly avoid death, and seeing as how he was now open she ran in for the attack. The man was simply quicker than she was. He easily dodged her attack and kicked her in the stomach with such force that it not only sent her flying, but caused her to throw up her last meal as well. Clutching her stomach and gasping for air, she could only look up in horror as the "man's" grotesquely disfigured face came into view.

"Is that truly all you have to offer, princess?" he said readying his axe "I was expecting more of a fight, considering how you managed to kill so many of our risen." Lucina closed her eyes and waited for the end to come

 **Authors notes: So I'm really looking to get back into this, and decided the best way was to come back and edit the hell out of this first chapter. So here it is, the revision I should have done two years ago. I may revise chapter two sometime soon, or just go straight to a new chapter, I'm honestly not sure. Anyways, I guess I should end this before it drags on for too long. So until next time -Neo**


	2. Ch2: The Children of Grima

**Two**

 **The Children of Grima**

The very second Marc arrived at the dragons table he was summoned to his father's quarters by one of the dragon priests. However, he was in no hurry to receive his scolding and instead took a small detour to the library where he was sure he'd find his sister.

The library had always seemed pointless to Marc, other than him the only other people that lived at the dragons table were his father and sister. Well, along with a few dragon priests. In actuality, the place was less a library and more a small room with an assortment of old tomes relating to Plegia and it's vast history. Some books dating back to when Ylisse was still referred to as "Archanea" As suspected, he found his sister sitting in the corner of the room, her messy shoulder-length blonde hair hiding her face and her nose deep in a book.

"Well, you haven't moved since the morning." Marc teases.

"Brother?" she says looking up from her book, most likely for the first time since opening it. "What are you doing back this soon, don't tell me you already finished your mission?"

"Alas, I could tell you that, but that would be far, far from the truth."

She quickly closed her book and stood up "What do you mean!? You didn't lose, did you?" She asks, concerned and angered. "What happened!?"

"Had to retreat" he said shrugging his shoulder, dropping his formalities and entering a more relaxed form of speech.

"This is no game Marc!" she snapped "Have you yet to tell father of this failure?"

"Yup." Marc replied "But... I think he already knows, I was summoned t-

"Wait... father summoned you! Why in Grima's name have you not gone to see him! Do you know what kind of a beating that calls for!?"

"Yes, but father can wait Morgan, it's not as if he's going somewhere anytime soon."

"He's our father Marc! Our liege!" she said grabbing Marc by his collar. "Our father is Grima and to disrespect him I to disrespect God himself!"

"Hey! Hey! What the hell are you doing!?" Marc struggled, trying to free himself from his sister grip. She was unusually strong for someone of their age. Although that strength could be due to the new training regiment she had recently been placed under. Marc was interested in it himself, but alas, he was kept in the dark about the whole thing. Being twins, the two shared everything with each other... however matters regarding their work with their father was something neither felt comfortable discussing.

"I'm taking you to go see father! Now you can either come with me nicely... Or, you can have me drag you there on your ass! Your choice." She stared at him with fiery eyes, it wasn't uncommon for his sister to get fired up like this. Infact, situations such as this were quite common between the two. Marc's laid-back attitude would often get him on the back hand of his sister's nerves.

Marc held both his hands up and waited for his iter to release him "You always have to make things so serious."

In truth, Marc knew how serious of a matter this was. He had failed his first major mission. His father had trusted him with this task and he had failed. He and his sister were the children of Grima, the children of a god, they were their father's pawns and needed to be able to do his bidding. If Marc couldn't do that, then of what use would he be?

…...

The doors to his father's chamber's had always fascinated Marc. They were engraved with the likeness of the fell dragon head. Each of his six eyes replaced with a ruby.

"So, are you gonna go in or am I going to have to push you?" Morgan said.

"Oh, were you waiting on me? I had assumed you were going to open them" Marc Jests "Are you not coming in as well."

"And why would I do that" Morgan said "You're the one father asked to see not me."

"I don't I just thought that you would"

"Are you going in or not"

"Yeah I'm going in" He said

Marc stepped into his father's quarter's trying his best to make as little noise as possible. The room was dark save for the glow of a few candles which offered just enough light so he could see his surroundings.. His father's back was turned towards him, yet Marc knew he sensed his presence all the same.

"Father... You asked to see me"

"I did" his father replied "Although it seems you took your time getting here."

"I apologize father. I had thought it appropriate to let my sister know that I had returned and diminish any of her fears before reporting to you."

His father turned to face him. "I see. So you would prioritize your sister over me?"

"N-no father. I simply thought it necessary to..." He begins thinking of an excuse. "To inform her so she would stop her needless worrying about me and return to doing something productive.

"Do you seek to belittle me?"

"No father." Marc promptly answers.

"Now then. Would you like to inform me on how is it that you were able to return from your mission so soon? He pasues. "Was it truly such an easy task".

"Actually..." Marc laughed nervously. "That's a bit of a funny story, you see I was forced to retreat."

"Forced to retreat." his father repeated turning around to face him.

"Yes father." he replied.

"So you are saying you had no choice in this matter." his father looked Marc straight in the eyes.

"Yes father, is that not what the word 'force' means" Marc replied, allowing his anger to get the better of him.

"Do not address me with such a tone child!" his father spat. "I laid witness to you battle, you sent for Baba to fight and fled like a craven!"

"I had no choice in the matter father!" Marc cried. "The enemy had destroyed the majority of my forces, had I not fled when I did, well... I may not have been here to tell you of this."

"Let me ask you a question Marc, are you a part of the Grimleal."

"Y-yes of course I am father."

"Then allow me to inform you of one of our ideals..." His father raised his voice. "THE GRIMLEAL DO NOT RETREAT! THE NEXT TIME YOU FAIL, YOU WILL NOT RETREAT! INSTEAD YOU WILL DIE ON THE FIELD OF BATTLE! Do I make myself clear Marc?"

"Yes father". Marc said.

"Now get out of my sight!"

Marc bowed, before turning and quickly fleeing the room.

…...

Lucina closed her eyes and waited for the end to come. This is it she thought to herself this is the end. _How far I've come only to die at the ends of some grimleal..._

"Sword hand strike!" a rather familiar voice said.

Lucina opened her eyes just in time to see her cousin slash the man across his back.

"Arrrg!" Baba let out a pain filled roar.

"Luci are you alright!?" Cynthia cried as her pegasus hit the ground.

"I'm fine" she lied "Go and help Owain."

"You got it sis!" Cynthia replied as she rode off."

Lucina smiled weakly as she watched her sister ride off before losing consciousness.

…...

Owain went in for another strike however, the Great Demon King of Giants- as Owain dubbed him -anticipated his attacked and jumped out of the way.

"You're faster than you look, oh great Giant king. But my sword hand is faster!"

Know knowing his opponent's speed, Owain went with a move he knew his opponent couldn't possibly dodge.

"Let's see if you could dodge this!" Owain ran towards his opponent with incredible speed "Blazing thunder strike of death!"

 _ **clang!**_ His blade bit against the edge of his opponents axe. "That's impossible!" Owain exclaimed "No one has ever managed blocked my Blazing thunder strike of death before!"

"It appears I would be the first" Baba replied

"You are indeed a worthy opponent." Owain said "However, even the most worthy of foes eventually fall prey to my sword hand's unquenchable thirst for blood."

"We'll see about that" he replied.

"Time to pay!" Cynthia yelled as she swooped down from the sky. Managing to cause enough of a distraction to allow Owain another shot at his opponent.

 _If my Blazing thunder strike of death was not enough to defeat him, then this surely is!_ He knew full well the dangers of what he was about to do, this was his most powerful move yet and he was unsure if his body was ready to handle all that energy. _No I must do this!_

"You've left me no choice" Owain whispered. "Radiant strike of dawn!"

He jumped in the air and brought his full force down up his foe. There was a sickening sound as his sword cut through the man, and then there was quite. The surrounding area was stained in blood and there was more than a healthy amount of it on Owains face.

"And so the Great Demon King of Giants falls" Owain said triumphantly. "And so he falls."

 **Author's notes: Still a bit rough. Partly due to myself being too lazy to rewrite the entire chapter. With Chapter two's revision now finished I'll finally get to work on chapter three. Hopefully I'll be done by the end of May, however, I may have to delay it due to exams and unfinished projects. Anyways, until next time.**


	3. Ch3: Severa

**Three**

 **Severa**

The sun beat down on her as she tirelessly marched through the mud along with the caravan she had been hired to protect. Severa had been drinking at a tavern, minding her own, when the owner asked her if she was interested. Of course, she accepted the job without a second thought. Money was money, and it was something she was in desperate need of. Yet still, with a job such as this her chances of returning without a scratch were slim. While professionally a mercenary, she liked to think of herself a proper lady, much like her mother had been. That meant her hair must always be perfect, her face always be clean, and her body in ample form. Unfortunately, she currently looked as if she were some farms-hand, with her face covered in mud and her hair a mess of knots and loose strands. She reeked as well, although not half as bad as the others. The least she could say is that their luck had not been half bad. They had marched for three days and had not once spotted Risen nor bandits. _I guess I should count my blessings..._ She kept reminding herself about how much worse things could be, hoping that would somehow help her accept the present, however, that did little for her moral and only reminded her of darker times...

 _Schleek~_ "Arg! What the hell was that!?" Severa held up her foot and stared in disbelief at what she just stepped on. "Arg, it's smell is putrid!" She placed her foot back down and rubbed it into the dirt whilst glaring at the horses in front of her. "You disgusting brain-dead usele-

"Easy there lass." One of the other hired mercenaries approached from behind. He was a muscular man, with dark orange-dyed hair and a short beard. "Just a bit of horse shit it is."

"I know it's horse shit, which is exactly why I'm acting like this! Can't those damned animals learn to keep their excrement in until we stop! They should be trained at the very least. The owner will compensate me for this. My armour wasn't cheap y'know."

The mercenary laughs. "You have quite the high expectation of these people. Want them to clean your hair and feed you meals while your at it?"

"No, I simply expect them to create proper conditions for their company.

"You're a mercenary. You do blood work. Ain't nobody gonna' give a damn how you feel." He paused. "You haven't been doing this for very long, have ya' lass?"

He got the truth of it. Severa had only taken a handful of jobs as a sell-sword so far and she was still in what she deemed the "Adjustment" Phase. Before two months ago, she had her own personal bodyguard taking care of her and all the fighting. They were the leftovers from her mother's estate... Four years prior, during a Risen raid, the majority of their guard fled... Leading to her mother's untimely demise. The selfish creatures left Severa behind defenceless, were it not for those few loyal to her mother, she surely would have perished along with her. Unfortunately, those few loyal men had all since passed, deserting Severa behind to fend for herself.

"How long I've been doing this is of no matter to you! Your sole responsibility is to defend the caravan, not inquire about my personal experience."

"Sheesh, didn't mean ta' fire you up lass. But get this straight, Ain't nobody gonna' ya' hire if you don't shut your trap. So keep it quite, yeah?"

Severa knew he was right. She was no longer under the care of those who loved her. These men wouldn't give a damn about her feelings or her well-being. She sighed and kept on trotting along. Trying to bring her mind toward other, more pleasant thoughts. _The trees are nice_. She thought. _Although they offer little in the way of shade from this blasted sun!_ She wiped some sweat from her brow and looked back at her hand, now covered in moister, allowing it to meekly reflect the light. _Arg! I'm so sticky and sweaty and gross! It's like I'm being baked in an oven of armour! I want this to end! End! End! End!_ She felt her eyes sting as they began to water. _I'm a proper lady._ She wipes her eyes. _I cannot allow myself to cry over such petty things._ With a sniff, she regained her composer and marched in utter silence.

The silent peace did not last long. With every step she took Severa felt her chest sink. It felt heavy, as is some unnatural force were pushing it down. _Something's wrong._ The air felt still and Severa suddenly felt cold, really cold. A chill deep in her bones... She couldn't shake the feeling, it was as if she were being watched. She sensed their presence. I _t's merely the heat Severa._ She told herself.

 _Whssst_

Something flew by and hit one of the drivers, causing him to fall off screaming and his horse to run off, dragging its wagon along with it. In shock Severa drew her blade. "What's happening!?"

"Bandits!" Someone yelled. "Bandits!"

The other mercenaries drew their blades and held their backs toward the caravan. Severa decided it was a good idea to mimic them and did the same. There was quite once more. She squinted her eyes, trying to find figures in the forest. That turned out to be a mistake, as she was unable to raise her blade in time to stop the rushing figure whom leapt out of seemingly nowhere. Managing to somehow avoid being cut in half, Severa whipped her blade towards her attacker and caught his in a parry. Their blades clashed and bit at each other while sparks were sent flying in all directions.

Her attacker jumped back and stared her down. He was an ugly man. A crooked nosed knave she would have called him. With patchy blonde hair and miscoloured eyes. "Quite the pretty face y'gots there girl. Shame if I have t' hurt ya'. Why don't ya' lay down yer' weapons and come with me like a good little girl?"

"I'll be going nowhere with a dastardly man such as yourself. Now shut your mouth so I can kill you!" Severa shook. She had yet to fight an actual human opponent before. She had a fair amount of practice fighting stray Risen that had shown during her other contracts... however, she was unsure if she had the will to actually take another's life. Still, she hoped she at least looked somewhat intimidating to the man.

"Quite the sharp tongue. Remind me to cut it out before I show ya' to the boss." He sneered and swung his blade toward her left side.

Severa held hers up to counter his blow and grunted upon impact. The force of the blow made her arms feel like jelly. Her attacker was far more skilled than she was, and he was quickly overpowering her.

"Tired girl?" He chuckled and kneed her in the stomach, then taking advantage of the situation and swatting her blade aside.

"Arg!" Severa cried out in pain as she clutched her stomach, trying her best not to fall to her knees. "You... bastard! I'll c-carve out your insides and... feed them to the maggots!"

The man smacked her down to the ground. Her teeth cut into her cheek, the iron taste of blood filling her mouth. "Ah!... _phe!_ " She spat bloody saliva on the ground and cried out in agony as her attacker grabbed her hair and yanked her up.

"Arg! Let go of me!" Severa held her legs up and kicked the man in the knees, using the resulting force to break free of his grasp. She quickly began crawling backward and reached for her sword, however, her attacker had grabbed one of her legs and pulled her away.

"You ain't goin' anywhere!" He pulled her toward him once more and began climbing on top of her. "The boss can wait, I ain't letting him have all the fun!"

In a last ditch attempt to escape, Severa dug her hand into the ground and threw mud on to her assaultant's face. The mud wasn't dry enough to irritate his eyes, however, his flinch was all she needed to turn the situation around. Using those few precious seconds she had bought, Severa grabbed the blade of the man's sword and thrust it into his other arm.

The man howled in pain and desperately tried to free the blade from his bloodied arm. Wasting no time, Severa got to her feet and bolted toward her blade. Grabbing it and turning around in one swift motion, Severa charged toward her attacker and did not stop until she felt her blade tear through his body.

"Ah!" The man let out a short cry, followed by moan before falling limp. Now, the only sound that remind were Severa's whimpers and quite sobs as she fell against the man. She shook with fear and grief. Despite what the man had done to her, she knew he was still a person. That he was capable of feeling emotions just as she was... She held on to his body, hugging it tightly as she continued to sob. "I'm sorry!" She cried. "I'm so sorry!"

"Quit your crying, would ya' lass?" The mercenary approached, soaked in blood and sweating like a boar.

Severa ignored him, clutching the dead body even closer. Why she would do such a thing escaped her, but the body somehow offered her comfort.

The mercenary sighed and grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her away from the man and held her in an embrace. "No point in holding a dead man..." He sighed once more. "The first one's always tough."

Severa dug her head into the man's shoulder and continued to sob. An hour prior she would rather have been killed than seen like this, however, she just could not hold it in. Right now she cared not what others would think, she let herself be held by a man whom she knew not the name and sobbed like a weak, pathetic little girl. _Mother was right. I can't handle this world..._

The mercenary rubbed her back. "The rest of the bandits fled after I made easy work of their friends. Of us... I'm afraid it's only you and I left... and one of the squeamish owners cowering in a pile of his own piss and vomit." He chuckles.

"He asked for it!" Severa sobs. "They came after us!" She wailed. "I had no choice!"

"I know lass. You did nothin' wrong. The village we were headed to ain't so far off. What say you we stop the crying and try to get there before sundown, uh?"

Severa's only response was a weak nod into is shoulder.

"Right then. Let's get a move on."

The mercenary broke from the embrace and walked over to the only other survivor. A short, balding middle-aged man with soaked pantaloons. "We're going. Either you can sit here in your piss, or come along with us." The man responded with a weak nod, and with that they set off for the village.

 **Authors Notes: This was a fun chapter to write. I've always liked Severa's design, but I felt her character was a bit bland. Hopefully throughout this project I'll be able to expand on her a bit more and make feel more human. Anyway, (Here's where I ask you to like my story XD) if you liked this and want more please leave a review. Criticism is welcome as well! If you really enjoyed it then why not favourite or follow? Hopefully I'll have another chapter up soon (Within a week or so if things go good.) and I really hope you enjoyed this. Until next time -Neo**

 **Update 14/06/17 Chapter 4 is almost done, the only thing holding it back right now are exams.**


	4. Ch4: The Day After

**Four**

 **The Day After**

The sunlight peaked through the fabric of a torn curtain and glared on to Lucina's closed eyes. She had been changed out of her usual uniform and into some more suitable clothing by her sister, who still sat by her side patiently awaiting her sister's awakening. Cynthia had not stepped a foot out of the room since she had entered it despite her cousin insisting that Lucina would be fine. She simply couldn't leave her sister alone. What if bandits attacked and Lucina were still asleep? Or if she had woken sorrowful and was in need of a familiar face to calm her nerves. Cynthia had a duty as a younger sister, and she was sure to fulfill it. Still... despite being so focused on Lucina, she couldn't help but wonder how things were back home.

Ylisstol was one of the only major cities that the Risen had yet to take. It's high walls and loyal guard made sure that any Risen who happened to get to close were quickly taken care of. That's not to say that the Grimleal haven't tried taking it, much to the contrary, they tried relentlessly. The problem for them was, that Ylisstol stood too proud. While other nations fell into despair, the Yilisseans led comfortable lives. That's not to say that they were oblivious as to what was happening around them, but they had faith in their leader, and so far she had not failed them.

Thinking of home reminded her of someone else she had to worry about. Her younger sister Caeda was quite the handful. And while she doubted not Sir Frederick's ability to contain her, the knight was passed his time and growing weaker by the day. _The years have not been kind to that man..._ Cynthia Sighed and leaned back in her chair. _Lucy will wake up soon... The week's just been hard on her is all. Not to mention that Grimleal freak did a number on her._ Thinking of the Grimleal mage made her blood boil. She hated seeing people get hurt, but hated it even more when those people were her loved ones. She clenched her fist. She had vowed that the next time she saw Lucy- or any of her loved ones- being harmed. She would save them. She would have continued rambling on in her head, but two knocks on the door transported her back to reality.

"Cynthia, are you in there?" The stoic voice of her cousin, Owain, muffeled by the door."

"I am." Cynthia replied with slight annoyance. This had been the seventh time since she entered the room that Owain had come to the door. In truth she would not have been bothered by his company, if not for the fact that his only purpose in showing, were so he could convince Cynthia to leave the room.

"Can you open the door?" He asked solemnly

"Are you going to try and drag me out of the room again?"

Owain remained quite.

"The door's staying locked."

"Cynthia... She's going to be fine. Lucina's strong, she's survived much worse than this. The blood of the heroes is not so weak as to fall victim to such simple a injury."

"I know she isn't going to die Owain... it isn't that simple..."

"I know... but... for your own sake... just come outside. We're all worried about you. You haven't ate or slept since she fell unconscious."

"It's been but a day Owain."

"I'm going to have to break down the door, aren't I?"

"It certainly isn't going to open from this side."

…..

Owain sighed and stepped away from the door. He understood why his cousin was so insistent on remaining there... Six years prior... her mother and been poisoned while bedridden... Cynthia trusted no one but herself to look after her family thereafter. Even so... he wished she would see his side of things. Owain Stepped out of the small hut that they had made the medical centre and took in the destruction of the village once again. They had managed to burry most of the fallen over night, however, rubble filled the cobblestone streets and few buildings were left standing. The few who had survived the previous day remained with them. Most offering to join in order to avenge their loved ones, despite Owain's best trying to convince them that they'd surely meet their end. Owain understood their judgement however, he was quick to join arms with his cousin after the death of his siblings five years ago... both had been trapped in the house when it was set aflame by the Grimleal. At least he still had his mother with him, which was not something he could say for the rest of his friends...

"Uncle Owain!" A young girl ran up to him. She wore a rusted helm over her shortly cut red hair. Underneath the helm hid a pair of shining yellow eyes . He always felt hopeful when staring at them. So full of innocence, they reminded him of his early childhood. Peaceful and quaint. The girl was the daughter of a bakester they saved from a similar village some odd years back. She had quickly taking a liking to Owain and almost immediately began referring to him as "Uncle." The two had quickly become inseparable and although he would never admit so (For personal reasons.) Owain thought of her as a sister.

"Heh! Jovial as ever I see Elucianna!" He smiled and pushed the helm down in front of her eyes. "Where'd you get this thing?"

"One of the villagers gave it to me!" She pushed the helm back up. "He told me it had belonged to his brother and had kept him safe for years!"

"Oh really? Let me see it for a second." Owain grabbed the helm off her head and inspected it. "Hmmm~ I see. Woah!"

Eluciana's eyes widened. "Wh-what's wrong!?"

"This helmet... it possesses incredible power!"

"Incredible power!" She mimicked excitedly.

"Yes! While maintaining the appearance of an unkempt helm, it actually posses many magical abilities that are beyond my expertise. One thing is certain however, keep it with you always, and harm will never find you."

Her smile widened and she embraced Owain tightly. Owain smiled back. "It is not me you should be thanking. Go to the villager who gave this to you and thank them, alright?"

She nods. "As you will Uncle Owain!" With that, she put the helm back on her head and ran into the village. Owain's gaze slowly shifted away from the village and off toward the distant horizon.

The village was surrounded by an evergreen lawne which led way to massive forest which enclosed the village. He would have continued to daze off, were it not for the fact that three figures now made their way toward the village. It was hard to tell from such a distance, however, one of them appeared to be injured.

"Ho there travellers!" Owain approached cautiously, his sword-hand on the hilt of his blade. The travellers looked well worn and beaten. Two were males, one a puffy old man in a damp purple gown and the other a broad sell-sword with queerly coloured hair. The third member of the group was a red haired female with two long extravagant tails of hair flowing downward on either side of her. One of her hands was wrapped in cloth and drenched in dried blood. Based off of her attire, he came to the conclusion that she was a sell-sword as well. As Owain continued forth, the male mercenary motioned for the other two to stop and he alone continued toward Owain.

"What happened to the village?" The mercenary asked, now a few steps from Owain.

"Risen attack... What happened to you?" Owain inquired.

"Bandits." He tilts his neck and motions to the girl. You got any healers. Little lass got her hand bloodied."

"No healer." Owain sighed. "But we have medical supplies if she feels the need."

"She won't be too happy t'hear about that."

"It's all we have unfortunately."

The mercenary turned back and waved for them to approach. "This is Severa." He points to the injured mercenary. "See to it that she gets taken care of, yeah?"

 **Authors Notes:** **Sorry for the abrupt ending, I just kind of wanted to move on from this chapter to the next (Which should be out in a week or two) -Neo**


	5. par1: Disaster

**Paralogue**

 **Disaster**

"Arg!" He cried out in frustration. "How the hell do I keep doing this!?" Marcus wiped the sweat from his brow and tossed the burnt cake in the trash. Five times! Five times this week he tried to make the cake and five times has it blown up in his face. All he wanted to do was make a sweet birthday cake for his beloved, yet the gods seemed particularly angry at him. Grabbing another mixing bowl, he set to stirring the ingredients once more... although he nearly dropped it after hearing several thuds at the kitchen door. "Y-yes?" He replied anxiously

"It's a beautiful day outside. Are you gonna come out?"

 _Shit!_ _Why of all people does it have to be you right now!? I'm trying to bake you a cake!_ "Uh-yeah, sorry... I'm just Uhm~ preparing breakfast for mom."

"Oh." She replied warmly. "Okay, just make sure you're outside soon though... you've been coop up inside your house for days now, and... I'm starting to get a bit worried."

"Worried? About me? Oh, come now Amber, what reason could you ever have to worry about me?"

"I-I don't know" She admitted. "I thought maybe you got hurt."

"Me? Hurt? Amber, you know I'm indestructible, right? When Groeline through that boulder at my leg I didn't even feel a thing."

"… That's because your leg broke and you were in shock Marcus... Seriously... why haven't you come out?" She pauses. "Did someone threaten you again?"

He sighed. "Look, Amber... I'm just a bit busy right now. I promise I'll be out within the hour alright?"

"O-okay. As long as you actually, come out. Otherwise we're going to have a serious talk, alright?"

"Yeah, alright." He waited until her heard her footsteps then quickly began stirring the ingredients once more. Brushing some grey strand of hair out of his face and scratching his left-hand Marcus set to a standard rhythm of stirring and mixing, mixing and stirring, and some more stirring. Slowly dripping the batter out onto a pan, Marcus slips it into the over and sits down with an exhausted sigh. "She better appreciate this..." Leaning back on the chair, Marcus falls asleep before he even realizes.

 _What's that smell? Smoke? Where would smoke be coming from?_ He opens his eyes and jumps up. "Shit! The cake!" Jumping to the oven, Marcus pulls out the burning out cake and sets it on the counter, waving his hands around the relief the pain of the heat. Dipping his hands in cold water, Marcus checks on the cake. It's perfectly cooked. "Phew, I thought I burnt it again..." He pauses for a second and widens his eye. "The cake isn't burnt... so then why..." Marcus sprints the door of the house and slowly steps outside.

Ash... Ashes everywhere. The once thick green field now covered in greys and blacks. Corpse shrouded in charcoal and no sign of any life. "W-what?" His eyes widen as he feels the burning of tears in his eyes. They trickle down his face as he finds he loses the will to stand falling against the doorframe.

Everything... everything has gone to ash... the air filled with smoke and embers, the village all but destroyed... save for his home... Pushing past that fact, there was something far more important he had to do. Slowly holding himself off the ground, Marcus stumbles into the village barefoot and unarmed. He had to find Amber. She was alive and she needed his help. He'd come just in time and... Save... her.

The corpse of a teenage girl broken against the back of a wagon. Part of her spine sticking out from her neck, dripping a grotesquely coloured red fluid. Her neck is chopped and torn. Chunks of flesh hanging on by mere threads. Her once lushes ginger hair greyed and dried against her skin. Seeming brittle, as if simply touching it would cause it to crumble into dust.

"No... no... not you Amber..." He takes a step forward, but finds he lacks the will to support himself and falls to his knees. "You can't be! I-I baked you a cake and everything! Wh-what about that promise we made as kids? What about the fields and the farm? Our children? Danny, Alice, and Eliwood!? Y-you can't be... th-this isn't..." He cups his face with his hands as he can no longer control his emotions.

Behind him, a little girl steps out from under a stack of hay. Her hair is rugged and messy. Filthy to the point of losing its natural colour. He's seen her around before. A homeless little brat always begging for food or money. Why did she get to live!? Why did the rat who know nobody; the most worthless piece of crap in the entire village get to live, but his innocent beloved Amber is gone.

Marcus slowly gets up wiping the tears from his red, swollen eyes. He takes a step toward the girl, then another. His anger rising, hands ready to strangle the life out of her... but something tops him. Two tiny green orbs, shinning their own bright light through this smoggy darkness. Her eyes show ineptitude, a total lack of understanding what was going on... or maybe it was fear... perhaps she was so scared she was simply denying the fact that any of this had happened.

HIs anger had passed, Marcus no longer felt the need to harm the little child. Instead he grabbed her arm and tugged her along. Marching slowly out of the village, never looking back.

 **Author's note: Hey, I know it's been a couple of weeks since the last chapter and I wanted to apologise for the dely. Chapter five (While mostly completed) Is taking longer than I expected. With work as well, it's hard to find the right time to sit down and write. Regardless I wrote this paralogue as a way to update you guys on what's happening while giving you something that (Hopefully) Is worth reading.**


	6. Ch: Test

**FIVE**

 **Test**

She didn't much like thinking of her past. The earlier days were blurred, she couldn't remember where she had lived, what she had been like, and worse yet, the face of the woman who birthed her. Morgan always felt pain when trying to remember those moments... The life she had lived before coming to the Dragons table... All gone.

She stretched her neck and heard it crack, her body was terribly stiff, although she supposed that came with reading in the same position for hours. Not wanting to become a human statue, Morgan closed the book making sure to tab the page she was on and placed it back on the shelf. She made her way to the door and opened it, it didn't budge at first, but after a hard shove it flew open. She'd have to tell her father that she was nearly out of books to read. It had been ages since any new piece of literature had been added to the 'library'. Understandably however, books were the least of her father's worries. He was busy being a god and what not... Besides, her purpose was not to read books, but assist and serve her father in his endeavors. She was his prodigy, and while her tactics were not quite up to par with his, she had certainly outpaced most of the other tacticians. She was also an extremely powerful mage. Her tutor had said that it was because of her Fell-Blood, that the blood power of Grima enhanced her natural talent, however, Morgan liked the notion that she was just really good at what she did.

By the time she arrived at her quarters her lungs had already tried to kill her twice. Why in Grima's name did it have to be down so many stairs and so far away from everything else? Her quarters (Which she shared with her brother.) Were located in an isolated part of the Dragons table connected to the main tower solely by a long dreary corridor and stairs... Lots of stairs. Her father had never given a reason as to why this was so and regardless how long she thought about it, she could think of no suitable reason as to his decision. In all fairness, they were not the only ones to sleep in this isolated abode. Many of the higher servants also shared this wing and there were plenty of guards around to play parley tricks with.

Morgan slowly opened the door to their chambers, as to not wake her brother if he was aslumber.

"Nice of you to drop by sister." Marc said as he lay on his bed staring t the ceiling.

"It is, isn't it? I had thought my brother so terribly lonely that I just ought to have pay him a visit.' She chuckles and sits down on her bed. "Soooo~ What are you up to Marc?"

"Pondering life and it's many questions..."

"You're still bummed about your mission, aren't you?"

"My tactics were flawless Morgan; my strategy sound... Yet still I was bested by those peasants!"

"The problem is that you tried to be me."

"What do you mean?" He sat up and turned to face her.

"I reviewed you plans for the attack, you copied my strategy near perfectly. The only problem was your heart wasn't in it... Not to imply you didn't want to win... but, you're more aggressive than I am Marc, my passive approach will never work for you. My strategy requires quick thinking and consistent order giving and stuff."

"you know sister, for once you actually make sense."

"I'm glad you un- Wait! What do you mean 'I finally make sense.'!? I've been making sense my whole damn life!"

"Relax Morgan, it was merely a jest." He chuckled lightly.

"I almost had your tongue out there..."

"Would have been quite the sharp thing to hold, within but a second you would have been cut. Besides, it's quite the slimy thing as well."

Morgan giggled and threw her pillow at Marc. "Shut up! You're jokes aren't funny!"

"Then why are you laughing at them dear sister?" He picked the pillow up and was about to throw it back at Morgan however, the door seemed to have other plans as its opening obscured his vision of Morgan.

A guard stepped into the room. He was dressed the same as the rest, in silver and purple armour with the crest of Grim engraved in their chest piece and shield. "My lord, my lady, your father wishes to speak with you.

…

Much to Morgan's surprise, the guard had led them to the cells rather than her father's chambers. It stank of mold and the cold damp floor was covered in a myriad of moss and some unsightly liquids which Morgan feared to know the origins of. "Father, for what purpose have we been summoned to... here?"

Her father turned toward her, his unkempt white clumping together and sticking to his face, covering his eyes, and standing all over the place on the top. "There is someone I wish the two of you to see." Her father turned and began to slowly walk down the stony corridor.

Morgan followed most curiously, as did her brother. The cells were for the prisoners obviously, so what business would her and her brother have down here? If her father wanted them to see a prisoner surely, he could have had them escorted to somewhere more decent?

Her father eventually stopped in front of a cell where a tall skinny man sat in the corner. His clothing was tattered and torn, his hair mostly gone, and his back covered in scars, both old and new.

"This man" Their father began. "Was captured by the Grimle-

The man turned around. "I wasn't captured, I offered myself up cold turkey." The man chuckled.

Morgan's eyes widened. She recognized that laugh! It was the same one that... oh no...

"Uncle... Henry?" Morgan asked praying she was wrong.

"In the flesh!" He chuckles. "My, you two have certainly gotten big!"

Both Morgan and Marc turned to their father.

"Father... what is he doing here?" Marc asked.

"He is a traitor." Their father said. "Do you not remember how he sold us out to the humans."

Marc nodded. "I do, bu-

"But he's our Uncle." Morgan finished for him.

"The man has betrayed the Grimleal, that is all that should matter."

Morgan tried to protest once more, but her voice would not come.

"You both know very well what the punishment for betrayal is."

"Death" Marc replied.

"Yes. You shall be the one to carry out this sentence."

"But father, surely due to his position we could spare his life and simply take an arm?"

Their father looked at Marc unamused. "Such ignorance."

Morgan saw her brother regretted his words. Still, as much as she had loved uncle Herny, what he had done was unforgivable. Her father had treated him like a brother, and then he stabs them all behind their backs. "Father." She intervened with her mind made. "In lieu of my brother's hesitance, I shall take the place of the executioner."

"Very well." Her father turned to face her brother. "You disappoint me Marc."

"Forgive me father..." 

Grima walked away without another word, leaving the two alone with their 'uncle'

"What is wrong with you!?" She shouted at her brother. He was acting unbelievably stupid.

He sighed. "Nothing, nothing. It's just that getting blood all over me wasn't really in the agenda for today."

"Shut up Marc... now is seriously not the time for jests."

"You're one to talk, until recently all you ever did was joke..." There was a brief pause of silence between the two. "Are you sure you can do this?"

"Honestly... I don't know. I've never... done this myself before so..."

Their 'uncle' laughed hysterically "Oh, don't worry about that! One little slice and ' _ **pop' all over.**_ "

Her brother turned to face their uncle. "You realize you're about to die, don't you?"

"Oh, I know. I'm just so happy it's going to be one of you two!"

Her brother sighed and turned away. The two remained silent as the man behind them continued to blab.

….

The wind whipped her hair and bit at her skin. It was a chilly, miserable morning. The grey sky blocked out the sun and looked as if it may rain at any moment. She had purposely not woken her brother that morning, she didn't want him to have to see her do this. While she had killed people before, it was still relatively new to her, and she had yet to slay anyone who she had actually known. Still, she was confident in her abilities and her loyalty to her father. This traitorous dastard had betrayed the grimleal and will now face his fate.

Two guards escorted the once-white haired man toward Morgan. They force him on his knees and stepped back. There were no rights to be given, or prayers to be said. This man was a traitor and would be treated as such. All eyes were on her, and Morgan knew she had to act.

Her once-uncle looked up at her and smiled, his eyes shone brightly, he didn't seem to be afraid.

 _Sentimental fool._ She brought her blade down and his head went 'pop' Right off of his neck.

 **Author's note: I am so sorry for the wait, I got side-tracked with other stuff. This probably wasn't my best chapter, and I did rush the end to finally get it out, but I'm just glad it's finally finished. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed it. I can't promise when the next chapter will be out, but I'll finally get back around to Lucina. Anyway, until next time –Neo.**


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